Hail Mary: The Final Play
by Allie Rae
Summary: Hey y'all. Thank you for reading the first chapter of my Fanfiction. This is my first fan fiction ever! I plan on adding more very soon, so please be patient. Constructive criticism welcome. I love to be told how I can improve my writing skills, so don't be shy. Once again, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it. This piece picks up at the kissing scene in the street.
1. Awkward First Steps

The Silver Linings Playbook: Hail Mary

Chapter One: Awkward first steps

Pat is kissing me on the street cover in christmas lights when Veronica comes looking for me. There is shock on her face when I look at her. I expect and explosion, but instead she smiles and stares down at her feet. I look up at Pat, who is now blushing, and cannot help but smirk. He's so modest and gentle. If he knew some of the things i've done, He'd have an aneurism. The thought makes me laugh.

"Pat, I assume you will be taking Tiffany home. Ronnie and I need get home to relieve the babysitter," Von says awkwardly.

He nods and takes my hand. "Are you ready to go, Tiff?"

"Yes."

We walk, since Pat cannot drive and my car is at home, because our neighborhood is only a few blocks away. I'm happy to have the time to talk, since I have only a million questions.

"How exactly does this work," I ask. He simply wraps one of his muscular arms around my shoulder and takes a deep breath. "Well, We start slow. I'll take you out on a real date, and we can keep dancing. If you want?"

"Slow?" A blush forms on his cheek.

"Yes, If you're okay with that?"

"I'd love that," I lie a little. Obviously, I am human, an addict, and Pat is sexy. I also know that sex complicates things, and i'd rather not complicate this, yet. We walk in silence until I remember his christmas present that is tucked into my coat. I undo a few buttons, and pull out the chart. "I almost forgot to give you your christian present. It's not much, but I think you'll like it."

A cloud-chart?"

"Yeah, I noticed you stare at the clouds when you run, so I thought you might like to know what the shapes mean."

"This is perfect, Tiff. Thank you," he says and kisses my forehead, then pulls a little grey box from his pants pocket. He hands it to me with a funny expression, So I open it. It's a silver charm bracelet, and each charm has significance. The first charm is a cursive "T", a tiny pair of ballet shoes, a police badge, which bring water to my eyes, a football, and a snowflake, They are all beautiful. "Thank you," I say and kiss his scruffy cheek. "You're welcome."

We are on my street now and Pat is bathed in the lights. When we get to my door, he takes my keys and opens it for me.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," he says with a funny expression. I lead him up the staircase to my apartment, which is tiny, but perfect for me. I watch his face as he takes it all in. My kitchen and living room are combined, and there is a little hallway that leads to my bedroom and bathroom. I motion for him to take a seat on the couch, and turn on the coffee maker. After I pour two cups of coffee, I take my seat beside him. Pat takes a sip and smiles, "This is tremendous." Making coffee is one of the ticks I picked up after I got fired. I took a part time job at the little coffee shop in town. The thought makes me frown a little.

"So you want to keep dancing, or what?" He nods as he takes another sip. "Did you ever read Lord of the Flies," I ask out of curiosity. "No. I had to return it before I got the chance."

"You can borrow my copy," I say hop up from the couch and retrieve the copy from my room.

"Really?"

"No, I just like to offer stuff to other people all the time to mess with their heads. Why you want to read it is beyond me, but you're more then welcome to it." Pat laughs.

"I started reading for her," he say gently and I feel the bile rise in my throat. "But after a while, I kind of enjoyed it. It's relaxing and helps me calm down when my mood is I can relate to.

"When did you read this?"

"After Tommy died, and I was put into therapy. My therapist suggested I find a more constructed method of coping, outside of sex, so I started to read."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah, for the most part." He thought about that for a moment.

"What else have you read?"

"I'll show you. Follow me."

I lead him to my room down the hall. He takes all this in too. His eyes take in the dark blue walls and wood floor, the small double bed with the patchwork quilt on top, and the white lights that hang above it. "What do you think," I ask after a minute, and he grows stiff. "I think you are beautiful and very sexy, but we should-"

"I was talk about my room, Pat. What do you think about my room?"

"Oh! It's soothing. I like blue, too." I chuckle and point him towards the bookshelf on the wall beside my closet. It's wall length and full. I need to thin out some of the books, so that I can add more. His eyes widen. "Wow. You like to read."

"I used to think about sex a lot," I say and flop down on my bed. "Borrow what ever you like." He reads throughout the titles and I see his hand stop at the black case. "You can look," I tell him. Pat pops open the lid and stares down at Tommy's badge with a sad expression. "It's okay. It's just one of the things I held on to for memories' sake."

"Did I ever tell you I was sorry," he ask, and I'm confused.

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry that you had to lose him," he say gently. Tears come to my eyes. "It's not your fault, Pat. Don't worry."

"It's not yours either." I look out my window and say nothing. This is not a conversation I want to have tonight. Pat picks up on my hint and goes back to looking through my books. He picks The Count of Monte Christo and comes to join me. "Would you read to me," I ask. He nods and lays back on the pillows. I curl up to his side and listen to his voice. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.


	2. Bedtime Stories for Adults

Chapter Two: Bedtime Stories for Adults

In the morning, It is the sun that wakes me, and for once, I am happy to have woken. Pat is still beside me, on his side, resting an arm on my waist. This book is between us. His face is completely relaxed, and so beautiful, that I can't bare to take my eyes off the sleeping man beside me. I watch his steady breathing, until I start to feel creepy, and climb out of bed. Everything seems so different today.

I shower and start breakfast, which rouses him from his sleep. Pat joins me in the kitchen for blueberry muffins and orange juice. "You made me breakfast," he ask still groggy.

"Good Morning," I say with a laugh. He takes a seat at my kitchen counter and begins to munch on a muffin. "So how did you sleep last night?"

"Well, Thanks to you. I enjoyed hearing you read."

"Anytime, Tiff." I decide I will have to take him up on that offer again soon.

We finish breakfast in silence, and he kisses my cheek before he heads home to shower. The house becomes empty when he leaves, so I make my bed and do laundry, which are things I don't do very often. When I go to hang up my coat, I see the old shoebox on the top shelf of my closet. The things inside are a part of my past. That's where I keep "my toys for when I play with boys". The only person other then myself who knows about them is Veronica. She didn't approve of my past indiscretions, but she was intrigued by the all the bizarre things she never knew you could buy legally. I laugh at the memory of her shocked expression when I showed the box's contents to her.

I decide I don't want Pat to find out about these, but i'm also too proud to throw them out. I have no intention of using them ever again, but they are a part of who I used to be. I wasn't my best self then, but I love that part of myself. I love it as much as I love the best parts of myself. It took many hours of therapy to learn to love myself, and sometimes I wonder if I really do. My therapist explained my addiction to me, in the beginning. Dr. Lilly said, "Tiffany you feel guilty for asking Tommy for a break from sex, so you have this debilitating need to overcompensate, by exploring all the possibilities. Especially the ones you know would have intrigued Tommy." It was unusual for our conversation to be so frank, but I had enjoyed the reprieve from our usual sex safe lectures.

A knock on my door brings from my reverie. My Mother is already in my studio when I come down the stairs. "Tiffany, I just saw Pat leave." She has a concerned expression her face.

"Relax, Mom. He just fell asleep here last night. We weren't being naughty." She relaxes a little bit and rolls her eyes. Mom hugs me tight and kisses my forehead. "I love you, Tiff."

"I love you, too."

"I have to go to the store for somethings. Is there anything I can get you while i'm there?"

"No."

"Alright. I'll see you when I get back. Oh, before I forget, Your sister wants you to call her."

Of course Von wants me to call her. She's a bloodhound and she won't stop till her curiosity is satisfied.

"Okay, " I say and let Mom out. Once i'm upstairs, I call my sister. She picks up on the first ring.

"Tiff," she exclaims with a teenager's enthusiasm.

"What's up Goody-Two-Shoes?"

"You and Pat, huh?"

Before I can respond, I hear Emily in the background say, "Pap Pap."

I smile. The older Emily gets the more I like her.

"So it would seem," I say indifferently. I the past I would have told her to 'F off", but Emily has shamed me. The last time I said it, Emily wouldn't stop repeating it. Veronica was very upset with. Ronnie thought it was hilarious, and I couldn't bare the thought of little Emily's innocent mouth forming such dirty words.

It is then I hear her chanting 'Pap! Pap!', in the background.

"You sound busy. I'll call you back later," I tell her, and she tells me she loves me, like always, and to behave, which I never do.

I go next door, to my dad's study, and get my mail from this past week. When I return, Pat has left a letter on my door step. Curious, I open the envelope and unfold the paper.

Tiffany,

I think we should try the date thing again. Do you think the diner will let us come back? I'm kidding, obviously.

I promise not to order Raisin Bran this time. See you at seven-thirty.

with love and the best of intentions,

Pat


	3. Trying to be romantic

Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry It's taken me so long. I've been busy with school and, well, life, but here you go. Hope you enjoy.

Love always,

Allie

Chapter Three: Trying to be Romantic

He is on time like the ticking of a clock. When I open my door, It is immediately clear that things have changes. His intent has changed. It's like the way the sky changes from dark grey to bright blue. The mood has changed. He has traded his sweats and trash bag for a pair of khakis and a dark blue button up. He takes in my loose black curls and nearly bare face. This makes me smile, but I know he can see my freckles, the ones he liked on the beach. Our best moments were always the ones we didn't have to try for.

The waitress smiles at Pat, then frowns slightly at me. She obviously remembers our last meeting. I want to apologize for telling her to f-off, but I don't want to spoil the night, so I opt for different avenue. "Hey, Raisin Bran and…Sister Sailor Mouth."

"Hi, Can we get a table?" She smiles again, takes out a couple of menus, then leads us down the dinner to a corner booth. "What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll take tea," I say giving her my friendliest smile.

"And, I'll have the same?"

"No raisin bran?"

"No raisin bran," he confirms.

After she leaves us, I lean forward, resting my chin on my knuckles.

"You look beautiful tonight,"

"Thanks."

Our waitress returns. "What can I get the two of you for dinner?"

We order and she saunters off. "What's your favorite color," he asks.

I laugh, because it seems like such a random question.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's baby blue." I don't tell him why, but he does bat his baby blues at me. My cheeks grow hot. "What about yours?"

"Green." We are quiet for a moment, before I decide to speak.

"I had an idea for a new dance routine." His eye brighten a little.

"And don't worry, We won't be doing any awkward lifts."

He feigns disappointment, but curiosity is glinting in his eyes. "Will you show me?"

"Maybe." Pat knits his eyebrows and stands. "Let's go. Show me now."

I throw my hands up in the air, "Can I finish my dinner, first?" He plunks down into his side of the booth just as our waitress brings our food.

"I'll show you after dinner," I promise.

We dine and talk about the trivial. That's the thing about Pat; He can spin any horrible situation into a positive one. He would tell me that Tommy was a blessing sent to inspire and enrich me. When Pat goes to pay, I pull a napkin out of the dispenser and a pen from my purse. On it I write, "I'm a much a better writer than speaker. I'm sorry for my potty mouth.

With the best intentions,

Tiffany"

I leave it under my tea cup. Pat is surprised when I lead him to the park. It's a pretty night, and I don't want to waste it indoors. I take him to the flat ground underneath the old Oak. I used to dance here as a child. "Here," he asks, and my heart stops. Men have asked me this before, but I know Pat is referring to dancing, so I simply nod.

I pull out my phone, which has my dance song on it, and play it loud. The sweet and sultry alto voice dances in the dark of the night.

…_Holding my breath,_

_last one I've got left till I see you…._

I spin in circles at first, then rock on the balls of my feet. My body moves back and forth in a motion similar to a wave, because the rhythm beats that way.

…_Sweet sun,_

_send me the moon, _

_empty the skies out,_

_bringing me one step closer to you..._

My body crashes gracefully like a wave. Pat grabs me now, because tears are streaming down my cheeks. He rocks me in his arms, back and forth like a wave, and spins me. "That was beautiful, and so was the song," he says this and leans down, so that his forehead is resting on mine. My wet face is buried in his chest again, but tonight he won't have any makeup stains to explain.

…_Inches away from you,_

_scared what I'll take from you, Darling..._

Our noses are almost touching, now. I like that he doesn't wipe my tears away like most people do. Instead, Pat cries with me. I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm not sad at all. The tears come from happiness. Dancing has ,once again, broken down my wall. Pat spins me once more, but I lose my balance and fall to the ground, pulling down him with me.

Underneath him, It's warm and comforting, like cuddling underneath a favorite blanket. I don't want to wait for him to kiss me, so I lean up and kiss him. He kisses back, gently at first, but it builds. When I lay back against the ground, Pat rolls off of me and lays on his side. He looks down at me with his baby-blues. I take his hand and squeeze it. We lay there that way, and I let him trace my bottom lip. His wish is clear, so I pull his scruffy face back to mine.

…_I breathe in,_

_breathe out…_

To pull away, or not to pull away, That is the question. I place my palm on his scruffy cheek and gently nip his bottom lip. He stops and sighs.

…_Until you come in and out of view…_

This is how we lay, tangled. I am nestled into his side, with my head resting on his chest. His arms are wrapped around me. "Pat, Can we watch the sunrise," I ask him like a petulant child.

'Of course, Sweetheart," he says and kisses my head.


End file.
